Mayhem and Beyond

By Elizabeth McGivern

Mum by day, writer by night. Figuring out the rest as I go along.
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posted on March 13, 2018 by elizabeth

The Joys of Potty Training

This evening, my eldest son came into the kitchen looking forlorn. I asked him what was wrong and he said:

“Oscar threw a poo at me.”

And with that, I decided it was time to talk about potty training.

It should come as no surprise, to those who read this blog regularly, that this next parenting milestone has turned into a complete farce.

Some people reading this may feel that I should reconsider sharing the poo-flinging incident on the blog for fear it will come back to haunt him when he’s older. However, I feel that this could be a teachable moment. For example: should he irritate me in his teenage years I will be able to teach him that is not advisable by printing out this post and handing it out to his classmates.

I have spent months trying to convince him to start potty training, explaining that he needs to learn for when he starts nursery.

He didn’t care.

I’ve told him that he gets to wear super-cool pants.

He didn’t care.

I’ve told him he’ll get a treat, every time he uses the potty.

He thought about this for a little while and ultimately decided: he didn’t care.

The only person he will remotely be convinced by is his older brother. He wants to be just like him – to the point where he repeats his sentences straight after Oliver says them and pines after him at the window when he leaves for school.

Oliver has had some success with the treat angle (mostly because every time Oscar gets a treat I relent and give him one too). I have a feeling, by the end of this, I will have a kid out of nappies but two children bordering on the verge of Type-2 diabetes.

Back to this evening…

I went to check on the poopetrator and found him innocently sat on the potty, whilst the offending turd was sat on the living room floor. I asked him what happened and all I could gather from the guilty party was that: ‘Offer did it’.

‘Offer’ (Oliver) denies this and I’m inclined to believe the good one. Yes, I said it.

He didn’t even try to keep the pretence up for long, for fear of losing favour with his hero. Instead he cut his losses gave me a ‘sowee’ and went back to basically not giving a f**k about being in my good graces.

This child will be the death of me.

I was going to attempt to put together a handy guide on how to deal with potty training but, as you’ve probably gathered by now, I haven’t a damn clue.

If you want advice, ask Oliver – he seems to have life figured out at four-years-old.

 

Filed Under: Parenting Tagged With: advice, family, Home, Lessons, motherhood, parenting advice, potty training, pre-school, relationships, sahm, tantrum

posted on February 12, 2015 by elizabeth

What I Really Want For Valentine’s Day

I love Valentine’s Day.

After nine years together it’s nice that we are forced to spend one day a year remembering that there was once a romantic side to our relationship.

I love the clichéd roses and chocolates (I’m currently eating mine as I type), I love seeing giant, over-priced teddies in every shop and my personal favourite: catching nervous looking men trying to nonchalantly head into Ann Summers before they’re spotted by someone they know.

However, romance in a long-term relationship is a world away from what’s pushed upon us on February 14th; and as much as I love the clichés there are a lot better things out there that would make this romantic holiday perfect.

After a little bit (ok, quite a lot) of thought I’ve put together what would make my day amazing:

Sleep: a bit of an obvious one for the mother of a new born, but it’s on the top of my list. How good would 12 hours of uninterrupted kip be? Just think about it for a moment. I can’t think about it too long or I may actually nod off. Let’s be honest, at this stage I’d settle for five hours. That would be pretty fantastic too.

To go to the bathroom solo: I remember a time when going to the bathroom was a private affair. You went in, you locked the door and you weren’t living in fear of a tiny person walking in for a bit of a chat. In this new house the door handles are annoyingly low which means nowhere is off limits to the Bear. Yesterday we had a nice ‘chat’ while I was in the shower. As much as I love my children, I’d really like to be able to bathe on my own.

To have egg cups: an extension of the low handles, the cupboard door handles are just as accessible. Bear has taken a shine to my surprisingly extensive collection of egg cups (apparently I’ve been subconsciously collecting these). Since he’s discovered them I’m finding them everywhere. It’s not the worst thing to find but he’s leaving them like a serial killer’s calling card which is beginning to frighten me. Today I found one on my bedside table and I could have sworn that it wasn’t there when I went to sleep…

To stand up and just leave the house: I’d really like to just decide that I need to go somewhere, pick up my keys and walk out of the house without it being a military operation involving at least two bags, a feeding schedule and a window of opportunity.  It took over a hour to get out of the house this morning, and that was with my husband’s help – this doesn’t bode well for the rest of my maternity leave. I predict that we will all be lacking Vitamin D quite soon.

Someone to unpack the rest of the house: we are still drowning in boxes since the move and although I can’t stand the disorganisation, I don’t really seem to be doing anything practical about it, like actually unpacking. The mere thought of tackling the spare room scares the beejasus out of me. Best to just close the door and pretend there’s nothing in that room. Who needs a change of clothes anyway?

And that’s that. My idea of romance has drastically evolved since becoming a parent but I’ll still gladly accept the flowers and the heart-shaped card; but if someone could just volunteer to do the laundry that would be swell.

Filed Under: Lifestyle Tagged With: marriage, parenting, relationships, romance, toddlers, valentine's day

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